Manda'yaim Darasuum
by Ruus'alor TrainWreck
Summary: This is my first draft. I like so many RC fans really wanted that IC2 book, & this is my attempt. When I sober up, myself and the 12 Drunken Angry Ferrets that typed this thing may opt to revise it. I hope you enjoy...Jate'kara ratiin sosol ti jate'kara.
1. Chapter 1

___This is my first draft. Read if you so wish, review if you so wish, and trash it if you so wish. I, like so many RC fans really wanted that IC2 book, and this is my attempt. When I sober up, myself and the twelve Drunken Angry Ferrets that typed this thing may opt to revise it. _

_(__Inspired by ? And the Mysterions, Captain Morgan, the Groovie Ghoolies and (of course (*genuflects*) the Mand'alor herself, KT)_

_Umm.. what to say (*clasps hands over the mouths of the twelve Drunken Angry Ferrets at random intervals as they are currently being exceptionally rude...*) KT is a goddess.. we are mere ants in the afterbirth (DAF2 mumbles out from under a hand that I just cribbed that line from Red Dragon, which.. erm.. I really can't argue. (but it's still an awesome line.)) Anyway this is my first attempt, so be kind, but unwind, and read my attempt at Imperial Commando 2, which in a proper and merciful alternate universe KT herself has already writtten and published. __Jate'kara ratiin sosol ti jate'kara_

_The Original Author scratches head and wonders what else to say..._

_Drunken Angry Ferret 3 throws a rock at the back of the Original Author's head_

_After the OA gets done rubbing the back of head and giving DAF 3 a dirty look._

Believe it or not, I'm actually trying really hard at this -

_gives a dirty look to the Drunken Angry Ferrets and starts to wonder why they've actually been allowed on this project_

- this is nothing other than a labour of love.

(And please ignore the DAFs as they are generally a bad influence.)

**Recovered from the journal of Kal Skirata**

_You drink a few tihaars til your eyes cross, then you drink a few more to uncross them._  
_This isn't how I want my sons to remember me... a drunk old man who's given up._  
_But the galaxy, for as large as its supposed to be is closing in on me. When I look at it, back on this end of things, I just... feel... tired._  
_I can make the one last push, but what then? (There's always one last push.)_  
_I've fought over a decade for my boys, but I'm fast becoming a relic._  
_They can make their own way without me, they've all surpassed what I could teach them - by amazing measures._  
_I did what I set out to do. So what does that leave for me?_

**Keldabe**

**Mandalore Hill **

**Overlooking the Imperial Outpost ABG +1652**

I hate to say it, but Mandalore is getting too hot.  
This was supposed to be the great equalizer, but the Imps have moved in, and no one, not Mando nor Jetii are safe.  
So how do I protect my brothers?  
The "war" has been over for more than a year, yet I don't feel the crosshairs lessening any more.  
The Nulls, Fi, Atin, and Corr are here.. but so are a few jetii.. my former master Arligan Zey, Scout, and Kina Ha. Shab, all we need is Yoda here on Manda'yaim. I used to be a jedi, and according to some, specifically Palpatine, I still am a jetii. No wonder Darman is angry. We could basically form the new Jedi Council here on Mandalore. I don't think that's what Kal intended, but it's happened nevertheless. I've got to get rid of them. And keep my brothers safe. Not the jetii, but my vod'e. And somehow see all of us out of this dark time. No sweat then. I used to be a jedi knight, but now I'm a Mandalorian - I've never done anything by half-measures, not by any chance. I couldn't stand to see my brothers used up in the war and thrown away - not jedi, but clones. The jedi always had a choice - I can't help but think that they brought on this darkness themselves. This darkness it's powerful enough that it feels like the cold embrace of a lover scorned sliding up my back to my neck at times. So where does that leave me?

I shake my head in frustration and turn to Ordo "You know this is going to end in tears?"

Ordo looks at me with his intense stare. But I can't help notice him clenching and unclenching his right hand, "It's going to end in tears, but not for us Bard'ika."

I admire his confidence, but Kal'buir didn't raise the Nulls in half-measures, not by any chance. The galaxy could be crashing in around us, and Ordo would still exude that same calm. I can feel, even now, that greater darkness closing in around us, but if ever, it's the time to focus on the here and now. Not what's coming in the future. Sometimes I wish I could close off my jedi senses, excepting my healing skills. It's my status as a former jedi general that makes me feel at odds with the general Mandalorian population. Cin vhetin, but for former jedi generals apparently that blanket of snow needs to be a bit thicker than for others. But it's quickly becoming irrelevant. We're going to have to bug out of here. And my Mandalorian armor is going to mean sweet naas to the galaxy at large. Not with a baby in my arms. I promised Etain I'd watch over her son - my life be forfeit - but I had foolishly envisioned living that life out here on Mandalore with my clan.

.. and her

... and Darman.

But Order 66 put paid to all that - it doesn't matter if Jango was playing the long game or not, the end result is all the same. But the Chancellor long ago sold out to the dark side and much later the ruling clans sold out to the Imperials, and these days anyone with a few midichlorians in their blood are lucky if a quick execution is all they get. And this is my letter from this last unmerciful morning before our exile as the long, long army of troopers march out row by row. They should be our vod'e as well but for the fact they were grown in a year on a moon of Coruscant - they're not a part of the original three million. Those did their job, they killed the jedi. I'd feel bad for those jedi, but Windu was their clarion, their rallying point - and all he could apparently do in the end was embrace that one and same darkness. I've embraced my new life as a Mando, no light-side no dark-side to worry about, but like a child who is left alone, and throws a wild party, when his parents finally come home - and the party is over and the mess cleaned up - I can't help but wonder if the path I've chosen is the right one for a force user. So where does that leave me?

Ordo glances at me and raises an eyebrow. He doesn't need any hinky powers to read my mood. "Is this it?"

I nod and reply, "Yes my vod'e I believe it is. I hope we're ready for what the galaxy may bring to us."

He smiles an ironic grin, "I hope the galaxy is ready for us."


	2. Chapter 2

_(A sort of an aside (and yet more extemporation) to bring the travesty that is TCW canon into line with what KT wrote. Actual, you know.. stuff happening... in the next chapter. The Drunken Angry Ferrets say screw you if this isn't moving at your pace. I'll get them some coffee and try to sober them up.)_

**Recovered from the journal of Kal Skirata **

_Look to the star that rises in the west and sets in the east. It travels contrary to Mandalorians and Mandalore itself. It is the sky-city, the Kebii'traa'oriya, where some of our forebears opted to recuse themselves generations ago, calling themselves "New Mandalorians" and embracing a pacifist lifestyle. When that star never again crosses the Mandalorian sky, only then can we down below be truly united. _

Did they ever see the irony of it? Those free-thinkers who wanted to suppress the nature of Mandalorians and pursue a religious lifestyle? They were able to spawn an evil greater than any of us "low-rent" mercenaries.

They tried to repress the Mandalorian nature, and in doing so spawned the Death Watch. Did those delusional folk truly think that Mandalore was still nothing but an uninhabitable wasteland? Or was it a lie they told those on the city-ship to keep them and theirselves enslaved? Those Mando'ade who'd returned to the motherland had slowly but surely recovered our true yaim. It had been many generations since the devastation that caused Mando'ade to first become nomadic. And a few generations since then that our planet had become once again inhabitable.

Yes, the polar caps still far exceeded the norms for a planet in such close orbit to its sun - it was why those of us living in the far northern and southern lands still had to deal with the winters that we did. But Mandalore was like its people - it recovered and still life went on. Keldabe was a prime example - for the Oyu'baat it was but a brief hiccup. No, this planet was a far cry from Coruscant, as it had always been. We'd never be able to give it a run for its population in number of citizens, not even in our greatest heyday, but for verde, that was another story. But those heretics living in a metal city, in an artificial orbit above, what were they even trying to accomplish anymore? They'd birthed the evil that was the Death Watch from a transparisteel womb and still they presumed to know what was best for everyday Mandalorians. And with their proclaimed leader rumoured to having an affair with Kenobi - of all the jetii, that one?

Palpatine would wipe them out before they could even get a chance to utter some claptrap about how everyone should live in peace. The only opposition the Empire might encounter would be from the one and the same Death Watch if they were still hanging about. Kal hated to think it - no matter how extremely they had abandoned the resol'nare - but maybe old Palps would be doing everyone a favor.


	3. Chapter 3

_(The original author thinks Lou Reed is a god and - The Shit. Drunken Angry Ferrets 1-10 & 12 agree. DAF11 likes Kenny G for some reason... leaving the rest of us to go WTH?_

_Pale Blue Eyes + Heroin + Walk on the Wild Side + Coney Island Baby + Perfect Day + Some Kind of Nature versus Kenny playing the same freaking note for 45 minutes and elevator music? The OA and DAFs 1-10 & 12 say Lou Reed is awesome and helps prevent cavities when properly applied daily. ((DAF11 only wishes he looks that cool in sunglasses and sounds that good.. and can riff like that when he's damn near 70.)) The OA wrests the keyboard back from the Drunken Angry Ferrets to get this train back on schedule.)_

_Since I have considered Sarge the main character since his introduction in Triple Zero, I undoubtedly am in the process of making this fic Kal centric so to speak. I am trying to keep him (and everyone else) in character with KT's awesome writing as much as some newbie fanfic hack can keep in line with a professional's writing, and with trying to arrive at a point past the original author's books. I do worry that I'm generally making Kal'buir too blatantly morose even if it is intended so as to arrive at a certain point in the future. If anybody is reading this, feel free to chime in with an opinion..._

**Recovered from the journal of Kal Skirata**

_The war didn't end when Palpatine took power, contrary to the opinion of every civvy ensconced in the Republic... excuse me, the Empire. The war is still going on for the original three million. Though there are considerably fewer of those Tipoca men these days. Clones still fighting on the front lines for the Empire and clones simply fighting for nothing but a normal lifespan.. well, normal for someone propelled into their late twenties while they were just entering their teens. Damn Palpatine to every circle of the Corellian hells._

Ny was away on another shipping run. That was becoming more and more par for the course these days. The Cornucopia.. or as it was known now, the Skiffter following the aborted rescue on Coruscant (and a few well-placed hacks by Jaing) on smuggling jobs, only stopping by Kyrimorut for the offloading of supplies. Skirata knew where it had started, it had been when he confronted Ny about the data on that blasted chip. On the whole he wondered whether that information had been a blessing or a curse. It had prompted him to hurl accusations at someone he held rather dear and compromise with a group of folks he'd rather not have anything to do with. But he wasn't sure which would haunt him longer the look on Ny's face when he accused her of betraying them... or the look she saw on on his face when he was making those accusations. Kal knew he'd have to resolve things with her and soon, but right now it wasn't at the top list of his priorities.

Mij interrupted his reverie which was just as well reminiscing on could haves, should haves and would haves wouldn't accomplish anything.

"Kal, Uthan and Mereel are waiting." And that was the blessing and curse in one. Uthan was ready to test her anti-aging cure. Vaccination? For the lack of a better word what did you call something that rewrote lines of DNA? It made his head hurt, that was certainly a given. Skirata sometimes envied Gilamar's ability to find joy in the scientific as well as the mundane. He finished off the last of his caf and followed Mij to the homestead's improvised lab.

Uthan made her presentation with every flourish possible. Kal couldn't blame her, if he had her brain cells he'd probably announce it in the grandest way as well. But he didn't, he simply had his fists, his street smarts, his birth father's knife, and his adopted father's armor. It all had served him adequately most of his life, but now he had to put his faith and trust in the hands of someone who wasn't a part of his inner circle. And his faith in a kind of knowledge which couldn't be beaten or threatened into submission. And that was an exceptionally discomforting place to be.

Mij had assured him, as much as possible, that the science was sound. But this last step he couldn't take it it would have to be taken on by one of his own sons. It was one of the few things he couldn't do for them. Mereel had volunteered for the duty back when this was just Kal's pipe dream, an undertaking so large that it seemed impossible - and yet at this point so much later he was holding true. Skirata wouldn't expect less of Mereel but that didn't make the situation any more tenable. He considered if snatching one of the garrison boys on Mandalore to experiment on would be more tolerable. On consideration, he thought it would be, which made him sick to his stomach. So this was where he drew the line now, there were his clone sons and the others. And wasn't that where this had all began? Expedience truly did ambush you in the end. Kaminoans who considered clones expendable in general, aruetiise who thought clones were more expendable than randomly conceived human beings, ARC's who thought other clones were more expendable than them, commando's who considered everyday grunts not quite up to par with them...

Mereel place his hand on Kal's shoulder breaking him out of his reverie, "Papa, I have to do this. This is every clone's chance at a normal life. It's what you've been fighting for all these years. For us."

It was a mark of Mereel's love that he looked more regretful than frightened. He was more worried about what affect losing his life in this experiment would have on Skirata than what his own mortality was to him. It made Kal feel both chastened and proud at once.

He patted Mereel's cheek, "Mer'ika I couldn't be more proud of you. Everything's going to be fine." He smiled and then whispered, "Kar'taylir darasuum gar." He regretted not telling any of his sons or daughters sooner. He found physical demonstrations of affection and general praise so much easier than saying those specific words. And found it easier to assume that they simply knew how he truly felt.

Mereel averted his eyes for a moment an unreadable expression on his face then he turned back with the usual grin on his face, "This will make me the youngest of all my brothers. That means I get extras at dessert."

Uthan and Mij helped Mereel onto the gurney in the center of the room as Scout watched intently, looking so much like Etain that even now it pulled at Kal's heartstrings. Kal felt a moment of regret that he hadn't allowed anyone else in the lab. But he had given it a great deal of consideration, if everything went to osik it would be too much like allowing his family to watch a speeder wreck involving one of their own. He didn't have any doubts that Mereel had said what needed to be said to those it needed to be said to. Ret'lini, just in case... Kal bowed his head and pinched his nose, he worried that he was becoming a general chakaare these days. He exhaled and fixed his stare upon Mereel as the needle slid into breastbone.


	4. Chapter 4

_The OA feels that Irish pubs in America are generally underestimated. Especially Irish pubs that serve both Cider pints and Captain Morgan shots (yeah, I know, not very Irish but even the Drunken Angry Ferrets hate whiskey hangovers). DAF 9 points out that it's all fun and games til someone takes one in the eye during a game of darts. _

_The OA would like to point out that all props continue to go out to KT for her general awesomeness, coming up with the RC & IC books and everything you recognize is hers. Everything you don't recognize and/or that sucks exceptionally is the OA's. _

**Recovered from the journal of Kal Skirata **

_Someday there will be a reckoning. _

_Not just among the clone troopers held under the yoke of first the Republic then the Empire, but among all the disenfranchised... Mandalorian, Jabiimi, Bothan, Outer Rimmer, ex-Sep... _

_I have no idea what the galaxy will look like the day after. But I imagine it will be like peering into a supernova. _

Niner followed Darman through the long passageway. He glanced quickly at his HUD to verify that Rede was still trailing behind.

"Dar, I'm still not sure this is the best idea ner vod. We could have gotten off of Triple Zero a few months ago with Ordo and the gang. Now we're going to blast off to Mandalore on an Imperial authorized mission with an Imperial authorized ship and a Spaarti recruit tagging along to boot?"

Niner tried to ignore the running commentary coming from Kyrimorut. Frankly it was giving him a headache having two narratives running during any given conversation plus the added pressure he generally felt to edit his own words.

He clicked over to the private frequency to Mandalore and muttered, "Jaing shut the shab up." Yes, the stress was getting to him. Neither the Kaminoans nor his beloved Kal'buir had ever prepared him for balancing a slightly off the nutter Darman, a completely green rookie like Rede (who just for an extra level of fun Dar had threatened to vape if the kid wasn't up for deserting), the background noise of the Nulls who were constantly offering advice on how to keep the Empire in general and Darman in particular away from their interests (which apparently included Jedi in general and Altis in particular these days). Never mind his own sanity. It was enough to make a guy want to desert – and considering that he was the one of the unit who had been most hesitant to do a runner – what the shab was he doing? But if he looked deeper he knew, Darman hadn't left him, not when his back was broken thanks to that jetii trying to do a runner of his own. The Night. Other brothers of his might refer to it as the night of Order 66 or the night of the fallen sabers as it had been labeled by some of his more creative vode. But The Night said it all for him. The Night Darman surrendered his future. The Night Niner paid the price for showing a bit of mercy to an osikla jetii. The Night everything went wrong.

Darman glanced at him briefly and then shoved his helmet onto his head. Rede seemed to take it as some kind of cue to put his own bucket on. Niner grabbed onto Darman's shoulder tightly. "Dar? Dar!" He waited for a response, and when none was forthcoming he plowed ahead anyway. "You know Kad is perfectly safe, don't you? Buir had a reason for taking on the Jedi. The Kaminoan is there cause she may be the fix to our premature gray, Scout was part of the package. Zey is all on Maze and Bard'ika. They're not going to do a runner with your son. Kal and the Nulls already have a plan to get them off planet double quick."

Darman shoved Niner away, "When you have a kid with force powers you tell me how okay you are with him being surrounded with jetii in the one place he's supposed to be safe."

Niner inhaled and mentally counted to ten. Darman wasn't going to be reasoned with, not about this. He took Dar by both shoulders and leaned his helmet against his brother's. "At least promise me that we won't go tearing into Kyrimorut with guns blazing. That we'll give buir and our vode a chance to explain." Niner shook Dar, "Promise!"

Darman shoved away from him again and began stomping off through the causeway and towards the ship Holy Roley had procured for them. Rede looked back and forth between Niner and Darman both. He'd obviously figured out something was going on, but wasn't quite sure what. Dar came to a quick stop and then turned raising his index finger and jabbing to emphasize each word, "I promise, I'll give them a chance to explain but that's it." Dar turned back and finished his march, pausing to duck into the entrance to the ship.

Niner sighed and resumed his own walk into the causeway pausing only briefly to grab Rede's arm to pull him along. "Come on vod'ika, we're going to Mandalore. Forget what data you've pulled from your HUD, I'll tell you all about yaim on the way."


	5. Chapter 5

_The Original Author would like to say thanks to everyone that is giving this story a shot. The Drunken Angry Ferrets just whistle and look askance. The OA is hurting a few brain cells going 'should he, shouldn't he, should he..' the DAF's just roll their eyes and ask when the next bottle of Captain Morgan is forthcoming – we only get paid for typing and adding witty comments to the intro they remind the OA. The OA hands them a 750 of Cap and resumes banging head against nearest wall._

**Recovered from the journal of Kal Skirata**

_At some point you have to let your children go forth and make their own way in the galaxy. But knowing that doesn't make it any easier._

Kal pushed Uthan aside and leaned over Mereel. His son looked only slightly better than death warmed over – he was near comatose, sweating, and convulsing. Skirata pressed his forehead to Mereel's willing him to recover, for whatever it was worth. Uthan made the mistake of placing an arm on his back, he turned and grabbed it. He laid into the doctor, "If anything happens to Mereel your memories of imprisonment on Coruscant will become a pleasant one! What the shab did you do to him?"

Uthan read the look on his face more than than words he was speaking and paled. She stuttered a bit and finally replied, "I told you this was only experimental. Doctor Gilamar cleared it, and you okayed it, now we have to monitor the patient to determine the efficacy of the treatment."

The detached, antiseptic clinical speak only angered Kal further. He tightened his grip on Qail's arm to the point that it would inevitably leave bruises on her arm, "You fix this and you fix this now!" Uthan didn't respond, simply stared at him wide-eyed. Suddenly he was hit in the chest and driven back. The force of the push caused him to loose his breath and release Uthan. Mij pushed him back til Kal's back hit the wall and he was held there, an arm pressed against his neck.

"Ner vod, we knew there were risks going in" Gilamar paused and emphasized each additional word "you – are - not - helping." Gil paused and released the pressure against Kal's neck slightly, "we need to monitor Mereel and we can do that better without you getting in our way."

Skirata felt himself growing angrier, but it was all for naught. He glanced Scout making a slight motion with her hand and then he found himself being shoved out of the lab by Mij. Kal turned sharply to push his way back through the door that entered to Qail's lab, but then it slammed closed as quickly as it had opened. He slammed his fists against the door repeatedly, but it remained stubbornly shut. Kal bent over and placed his hands on his knees and attempted to take a few calming breaths. This was the stuff of his nightmares, one of his son's dying by some plan he had put in place, and with him not even there. After a few minutes he stood upright again and ran his hands through his hair and began pacing back and forth outside the lab.

Only a few minutes had passed when Bard'ika ran up to him. Kal thought Bardan might embrace him, but he pulled up short of Skirata and paused, "Mereel?" was all he said.

Kal exhaled and nodded.


	6. Chapter 6

_The Original Author would like to thank everyone that's hanging in to read this as well as those who have taken the time to review. The Drunken Angry Ferrets wave their hands and then put their paws over their mouths as they suppress a communal chuckle. The OA gives yet another dirty look to the the DAFs and then runs an index finger horizontally against throat – and lowers eyebrows to impress upon the DAFs with a glare how serious the OA actually is. The DAFs keep snickering, the OA rolls eyes and contemplates how it is that the OA can't hire better help before stomping out of room._

**Recovered from the journal of Kal Skirata**

_In this galaxy there is law and there is justice. Convention is the path steered between the two; but convention is the opposite of everything Mandalorians stand for._

**-42 BBG**

**Phyrstal Island, Abregado-rae**

**Mercenary action to suppress the uprising against the Nebula Front**

Kal crouched, inhaled, and glanced quickly to his left and right. He was still getting the hang of the new 360 degree view HUD he wore, so he was still more inclined to look to and fro rather than try to interpret the view from his buy'ce heads-up. When he stopped to think about it, he utilized the HUD, but long ingrained habit overrode new training when he didn't have time to think.

He leaned his back against the rocky outcropping, shebs on the ground, his knees nearly touching his chest, and took a moment to catch his breath. Wearing full armor was great protection against most ballistic weapons, but when you had to sprint in the stuff it wore you out pretty quickly. Once Kal felt that the level of oxygen being fed through his filter was actually catching up to his overwhelming need to catch his breath he glanced back to his left and smacked his fellow verd on the shoulder.

Ruus'aanyc turned his bucket sharply towards Kal's then quickly spun so his knees were on the ground and he was peering over the rock that they were both using for cover. Skirata's immediate sense of pride, that he was the one survivor from the squad – along with his squad leader – was quickly overwhelmed by the fact that he and Ruus'aanyc likely weren't going to live out the day at this rate. Kal heard a mortar round incoming and ducked his head down even further than he had previously imagined possible. He then puckered up as the ground shook and felt his helmet absorb multiple incoming rounds from something unknown but obviously not lethal. Clods of dirt or even rock he thought distractedly. How the shab did these guys know we were coming?

Kal heard a grunt come across his internal comms, then he heard Ruus' voice, "What do you want greenie? Want to know how completely shabla this has gone? Well I'll confirm it – we're in the osik."

Skirata glanced at his beskar'gam distractedly, it was green for duty, then wondered if Ruus'aanyc was referring to his armor or to his rookie status on operations like these. He'd been on plenty of maneuvers with Mun'buir and the extended family, but this was the first time he'd signed up for an action that was nothing more than a mish-mash of various clans accepting work as a mercenary army. Kal had been enticed by the paycheck for enlisting for this action as well as the deeper knowledge that he needed to prove himself outside of his clan. Another incoming round shook him out of his reverie. The ground shook and again he was pelted with detritus kicked up from the ground.

Ruus'aanyc's voice came over his comm again, "Rangir! Hibir, if we're going to die on Abregado-rae defending these Nebula mir'sheb we might as well take out a few of these hut'uun with us."

Kal nodded and replied, "Ret'urcye Mhi" before raising his rifle to scan for a target. He paused as he glimpsed what appeared to be Mandalorian armor in his sights and suddenly his scope lit up so bright that it activated the dampeners in his buy'ce. He was vaguely aware of falling backwards as Ruus' voice came over his comm as if underwater. He noted all this as the seconds turned to hours just before the multicolored spots in his eyes turned to black and sunk away dragging him along.


	7. Chapter 7

_OA note - sorry if I lost anybody, but the -42 BBG reference (Chapter 6) is a personal flashback on Kal's part to a war he fought a long time before he eve__n__ ran into the Nulls or Kamino. He'll apparently be visiting there at random intervals so all I can say is note the time frame - or the apparent lack of relevance to current happenings - for his departures back to the 'ole days'. I hadn't originally anticipated doing the flashback for Kal __of __a battle that took place over 40 years before Geonosis, but he felt the need to go there, and he has some general buried memories that need to come to surface. What can I say? Kal is running the show - I'm just along for the ride._

(And a Mandalorian language primer for those who may not have visited KT's site (and if you haven't, why the shab not?):

ruus'aanyc - Reliable, Trustworthy

shabla - 'screwed' up - but stronger - just imagine - and if you can't you're too young to be reading this

osik - referencing fecal matter - and if you don't know what fecal matter means you're still too young to be reading this

beskar'gam - armor

buir - father

rangir - 'To hell with it'

hibir - student, novice

mir'sheb - smart ass

Ret'urcye Mhi - Maybe we'll Meet Again; Goodbye

**Recovered from the journal of Kal Skirata**

_Being introspective is shabla overrated and for those who can afford the leisure of sitting around second guessing themselves and everyone else. Why the osik am I writing this crap anyway? _

Kal stood hunched over, his hands upon his knees, attempting to catch his breath when he suddenly heard the loud static burst from an incoming comm. The HUD indicated that it was Niner making the call. He instantly snapped to full-attention, back straight, eyes sharp and searching, glancing to the notes made on his datapad, his full attention on the business at hand. Bard'ika caught the sudden change in Skirata both visually and in a realm Kal could never understand. Jusik shifted his mindset as well, rushing out of the homestead to find and retrieve Ordo and Jaing.

"Skirata here", Kal replied to the comm.

"Sarge, it's Niner. We're inbound to your location... Darman, the rookie, and myself. Just wanted to give you a heads up, buir."

Kal paused, shab he thought to himself _Niner's finally calling me father_. He set that aside for a moment to pursue the greater concern.

"Niner you're doing great ad'ika, I am so proud of you, don't you forget that. How is Darman doing?"

The silence stretched on until finally Kal would have been able to determine there was a problem regardless of Niner's response, but finally it came, "Dar's having issues.. Well one issue. He's pretty upset that you're allowing jetii to live on Mandalore".

Kal swallowed and held off the desire to mentally berate himself - he could do that later. But he'd known it was coming. The only true question was why he hadn't been called to reckon sooner. And he really couldn't blame Darman, Dar was simply the only son of his that apparently felt comfortable calling him to task for the number of jetii that had found safe haven on Manda'yaim - compliments of Kal himself. He couldn't find it in his heart to blame Darman, not at all. He exhaled and berated himself for becoming right maudlin in his old age.

Kal brought his thumb and index finger to his nose, pinched hard and exhaled,

"So is Darman in the talking or shooting mindset, Niner?"

Niner responded instantly, "He was ready to start shooting but I think I convinced him to at least stop and try to talk things out first". There was another pause over the comlink, then in an out of place soft, husky voice Niner continued, "I want to come home. I want to see the rest of my brothers again, and I want Darman and Rede to be a part of the family. Rede is really coming along... I think", another long pause which Kal didn't dare interrupt, "I think we could talk him over. Away from the Empire and to becoming Mandalorian."

The silence dragged on as Skirata considered. An ARC Trooper like Maze can't be convinced to completely dump his indoctrination, but a fast-job like this Rede kid is going to willingly desert and embrace the Mandalorian lifestyle? Kal bit his bottom lip and considered the ease and implied trust of having Niner, Dar, and Rede landing straight at Kyrimorut versus the fact that Rede was a wild card and - as much as it hurt him to think it – Darman was quickly becoming an unknown as well. What to do then? A father's love and implied trust towards two sons versus all his other sons as well as the need to keep Kyrimorut a secret. He paced the length of the room then turned to nearly walk into Ordo. As always Ordo was gentle with his buir, absorbing the impact. He simply placed a hand on Kal's shoulder and looked down on his father with an upturned eyebrow. An answer then, so far as Skirata was concerned.

"Niner, set your coordinates for Keldabe. We'll meet you there."

Niner paused, so they weren't to be trusted with the coordinates of Kyrimorut, not yet anyway. At an instinctual level he understood, but it still hurt just a bit. "Roger that Kal'buir. We'll see you in Keldabe. Ret."

Niner closed the open channel to Mandalore and then turned to address the next in his list of problems. Darman was sitting on the floor of the shuttle, arms crossed tightly and visor glancing towards the floor. In the past Niner knew that behind that helmet Dar would have been as impassive and unreadable as if he were asleep or dead – but that wasn't the case anymore, now he could only imagine the maelstrom of emotions erupting in that head. Niner clicked over to the private two-way link that he could open between himself and Darman - compliments of the Nulls.

"Dar? Dar?", Niner waited for a response and receiving none finally hollered, "Dar!" That finally made Darman flinch, unfortunately it got Rede's attention as well. As Rede scanned the interior of the ship Niner gave him the stand down signal. Finally Rede returned his attention to his HUD while Dar returned his gaze to the floor. But Niner had Dar's attention even if his physical appearance belied that fact. That was of course a clone's greatest camouflage skill – the ability to seem non-engaged even if having a full out row over the internal comlink.

"What is it, Sarge?" Darman asked. Niner clicked his teeth then responded, "I've got coordinates from Kal. We're to meet up and Kal will explain everything. And would you calm down and not spook Rede?"

"So what is the kid up to right now?" Darman asked.

"I assigned him to review Mandalorian history... the history as written by Mando's and not by the Republic, or the Imperials rather. I also thought he should learn Vode An and Dha Werda Verda since it's apparently not part of the flash training anymore." Niner heard Darman chuckle over the link.

"So you're a Mando now, are you Niner? And you're recruiting as well? I'll still slot the kid if he messes with the game plan."

Niner dropped his Deece so that the sight was flush against the floor then rested his head against the butt of his rifle and sighed, "Look, you hate Jedi and that kid has wasted more Jedi than either of us. What more do you want from him? And may I remind you that you and Atin were all for jumping the fence and that I was the last holdout?"

The silence dragged on until Niner felt that he may have overstepped the bounds with Dar when finally he heard a response, "Things change Sarge, things change."


End file.
